And the fiasco with Jezebel—as his brother fondly called her—had given his boss the ammunition to take him out. He couldn’t afford to mess up again, especially on a case with a couple of beautiful women involved.
Jake sidled up beside him and slapped him on the back. “Looking for a certain someone?”
“Just waiting for you guys,” Sam said, refusing to rise to the bait.
“Right.” Jake chuckled as his four-year-old son bounced up and down, tugging on his arm, begging to explore the ship.
Sam pressed his fingertips to his forehead and massaged the dull throb that had been there since seeing that note in Jennifer’s car.
“Hey, you okay?” Concern replaced the amusement in Jake’s voice.
“Yeah.” Sam dropped his hand and returned his attention to the wharf. He’d be a lot better if he knew who’d left Jennifer the note and why. Unlike her hysterical sister, Jennifer had kept a tight rein on her emotions, but he’d felt the tremble in her hand, seen the quiver in her lips. The guy had gotten to her. Thrown her off her game.
Maybe left her too spooked to make this trip.
“Hey, relax. You’re supposed to be on vacation. Remember?”
Yeah. The other night when Jake questioned him about giving Jennifer his undercover name, Sam had told him it was a precaution. He posed as a buyer in the art world too often to be known to people in it by any other name. Jake clearly hadn’t bought the excuse.
And Mom and Dad would not be impressed if he bailed on the trip.
But if Jennifer and Cassandra didn’t board, he’d have no choice. He couldn’t afford to let them off his radar.
Tommy tugged on Sam’s pant leg. “Can we explore now?”
“Sure.” Sam took one last look at the gangplank. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
“They headed up to the buffet for something to eat,” Jake said. “I told them we’d meet them there.”
“Hey, strangers!” a friendly female voice chimed from behind them.
“Look who’s here.” Jake leaned back, his arms resting on the rail, and nudged Sam’s arm. “Good to see you.”
Cassandra flounced toward them in a multicolored, artsy-looking getup with an uneven angular hem that reminded Sam of a court jester.
But when her sister didn’t appear behind her, Sam didn’t feel like laughing. “Jennifer’s not coming?”
“Sure.” The twinkly smile in Cassandra’s eyes conveyed almost a giddy pleasure in his interest in her sister, which could nicely work to his favor. Cassandra fluttered her hand in the direction she’d come. “She just wanted to make a few phone calls before we left port and lost cell phone reception. I’m meeting her at the buffet in twenty minutes.”
“That’s where we’re headed, too,” Jake piped up. “Would you like to join us?”
“Love to.” She hooked her arm through Jake’s. “Do you mind if we zigzag through the middle decks? Check out where everything is?”
“Sounds good.” Jake reached for Tommy’s hand.
Cassandra paled as her gaze dropped to the boy she clearly hadn’t connected to them.
“It’s okay. I’ve got him,” Sam reassured. When Jake hesitated, as he always did since losing his wife, Sam added, “He’s safe with me.” His mind flashed to Jimmy, and he strained to swallow the lump that rose to his throat.
But Jake nodded as if he had no doubts, then led the way with Cassandra on his arm, leaving Sam and Tommy to trail behind. At least the woman was dressed in something more modest than the outfit she had on the other night.
The main lobby atrium, with its four-story ceiling and glass elevator, was even more crowded than when they’d boarded an hour ago. They took the spiral staircase to the next level, admiring the opulent crystal and brass fixtures, then rode the glass-walled elevator up another level to the promenade deck.
Tommy pressed his nose to the glass, entranced by the glittering lights.
“Ooh, I hear music. Let’s go this way.” Cassandra led them to an open lounge where a gifted musician played nostalgic tunes on a shiny baby grand.
Tommy tugged Sam toward brightly colored paintings lining the next hall. “Tommy and I are going to check out the art gallery.” He’d already scoped it earlier, but another look wouldn’t hurt.
“Sure, be right there. Be good for Uncle Sam, okay?” Jake called after them.
Sam wasn’t convinced his brother had actually registered his own words. Not that Sam begrudged him the flattering attention of a beautiful woman. It’d been almost five years since Jake’s wife had died. Sam just wished the woman wasn’t one of his suspects.
Tommy tugged free of Sam’s hold and veered toward the biggest and brightest painting—rainbow-colored air balloons floating in a pure blue sky—propped at floor level outside the gallery door. Along the way his foot caught the easel of another painting. Sam lunged to stop it from teetering over as Tommy skidded to a halt in front of the air balloons. “Look, Uncle Sam, there’s a dog riding in the balloon!”
“Oh, we can’t touch them,” a kind voice singsonged. Jennifer Robbins. She squatted beside his nephew, her pleasant smile tempering the swiftness with which she’d caught his arm before he danced his grubby finger over the canvas. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Tommy bobbed his head up and down.
“Makes me wish I could ride in such a beautiful balloon.”
The balloons weren’t the only thing that looked beautiful. Sam almost hadn’t recognized Jennifer with her blond curls spilling over her slender shoulders and wearing a casual, earthy-looking skirt and blouse that reminded him of commercials for romantic beach getaways.
“Do you like to draw?” she asked, and Tommy’s head-bobbing grew more exaggerated.
Sam stepped behind him.
Jennifer glanced up, her warm smile turning to surprise. “Sam, hi!”
He placed a cautioning hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Sorry about that. He got away from me.”
Her glance skittered to his left hand and back to his face. “This adorable little boy belongs to you?”
“He’s my nephew, Tommy. Jake’s son.” The ease with which she interacted with Tommy stirred an unwelcome appreciation for the woman. Her sister had scarcely looked at the boy—a fact that would eventually cool Jake’s interest, he was sure. “We were heading up to the buffet to meet my folks.”
“Well, hi, Tommy! I’m Jen,” she said then turned to Sam. “Let me see if the gallery has any coloring books and then I’ll walk with you. I told my sister I’d meet her there.”
“Yeah, we ran into her on deck.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “She and Jake stopped to listen to the piano player.”
Jennifer frowned. “Tommy’s mother isn’t here?”
“She died when Tommy was an infant.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sadness shadowed her eyes as she rose. “Let me get that coloring book.”
As Jennifer spoke to the balding middle-aged man behind the counter, Sam took the opportunity to scan the gallery for the two contributions the Robbins sisters were to bring aboard for auction. Contributions that might also prove to be pivotal to his case. Cruise lines normally auctioned prints, not originals, and would ship a comparable one from their warehouse to the winning bidder, rather than the actual item displayed. The fact that the